Daddy's Little Girl
by Crazed Fuzzle
Summary: Telling your family about your new boyfriend can get complicated when they're superheroes and he's a former villain. Continuation of "And Keep Your Enemies Closer"
1. The Mother

A/N: I usually don't cave to popular demand, but there were so many of you that were begging for more and I was already toying around with the idea, so there you have it. I was also originally only going to make this a oneshot, but I realized that it was going to be a very long oneshot if I did it that way, and anyway I think it's more fun to have chapters.

Just be warned that updates will be sporadic.

FYI: This starts the summer after Violet's freshman year of college.

Daddy's Little Girl

Phase One: Helen

Helen was the first one she told.

She hadn't been planning on telling any of her family about her relationship with Buddy Pine for a good long time, but the circumstances had been dire enough that she really felt that there were no other options.

Coincidentally enough, it had started with her birthday.

She had been woken by choruses of "Violet's got a boyfriend, Violet's got a boyfriend." Normally, this would have elicited nothing more than a groan from her before she rolled over to go back to sleep, but even in her drowsy state she could recognize that although she had a boyfriend, the fact that Dash knew about him was reason for panic.

"What?! No I don't!" she yelped, sitting straight up, relaxing only as she realized a few seconds later that if Dash had found out about him for real, she would have been woken by something far worse than teasing. Heart still pounding from the adrenaline rush, she glared at her younger brother where he was smirking in the doorway. "What are you talking about, dweeb?"

"He's probably talking about these," her mother remarked, coming into the doorway at a far more sedate pace than her speedster of a son had taken. In her hand was a bouquet of roses. "No note or anything. Just your name," Helen continued, laying the flowers down on her bedside. She gave Violet a mischievous smile. "Looks like someone has a secret admirer."

"Why would _anyone_ admire _Violet_?" Dash demanded, pulling a disgusted face. "Yuck!"

"Can it, pipsqueak," she commanded regally from her bed, crossing her arms, content in the knowledge that Buddy had remembered her birthday. "Today's my birthday, and that means—"

She was cut off by a wordless bellow of rage. Dash, of course, was out of the room in under a second, Violet and her mother scrambling after him to see what was wrong.

"There's a bad man on tv!" the four-year-old Jack-Jack told them excitedly from the entrance to the living room.

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Violet's stomach. She didn't really need to hear more than that to know what had happened (although the remote control crushed in Bob's fist—thankfully he had kept himself from throwing it at something—certainly reinforced the idea). Buddy had probably even meant it as some kind of twisted birthday present, she realized, and couldn't decide whether to be flattered or annoyed at this.

Syndrome had certainly come a long way. Gone were the self-important theatrics, gone was the insincerity, gone was the cape. He had, of course, retained some of that arrogance and apparent need to goad his opponent, but then he wouldn't be her boyfriend without that.

Her boyfriend was on tv. He was kicking bad-guy butt without cheating or taking the easy way out. Violet found that she was smiling a little bit sappily at the images on the screen, and quickly replaced the smile with a serious expression. Happily, the rest of her family was too preoccupied to have noticed. With some effort, she pulled her attention away from the television set.

"Bob, there's nothing you can do about it," Helen was telling her husband over Dash's nonstop stream of indecipherable words. "By the time you get there he'll be long gone."

"I can't just sit here and do nothing while that _monster_ is on the loose," Mr. Incredible grated, his teeth clenched tightly, his body a portrait of barely contained tension.

"You think I'm happy about it either?" the mother of the family demanded. "But we've got to be realistic here! We can go after him, _together_, some time that it'll actually make a difference."

"Helen…"

"Bob," she told him gently, picking up the four-year-old that had been tugging on her leg, "the best thing you could _possibly_ do right now is to spend some time with your family. They need reassurance that even with Syndrome back, things are going to be ok."

Which Violet interpreted to mean that the boys were scared and needed their dad to tell them that it would be fine, but that they couldn't say this out loud or Dash would fervently deny anything akin to fear.

"Why don't you take Dash and Jack-Jack out to play ball?" Violet suggested from her position removed from the mayhem, praying like nothing else that her father wouldn't go after Buddy. Please, please, please…

"But Vi, it's your birthday!" Bob protested, something finally breaking through his rage.

"Hey, I'll be fine," she told him, waving her hand in dismissal, miraculously managing to keep her voice nonchalant despite the terror that was raging through her bloodstream. "Besides, I wanted to talk to Mom about some girly stuff anyway. You guys'd just be getting in the way."

"…Fine…" Bob finally relented with a sigh, the tension ebbing from his body. "Come on, boys."

"Sweet!" Dash crowed, and hurried to be the first out the door, Bob following with his youngest on his shoulders.

The house was blissfully quiet upon its sudden lack of Y-chromosomes, and both of the women savored the quiet for a few moments. Violet could tell that her mother was using the opportunity to relax a little, but for her the silence was only making her more and more anxious with every second.

"So," Helen finally said, turning to Violet with a raised eyebrow that made her squirm a little, "girly stuff, huh?"

And that was it. The last straw.

"Ok, you have to promise not to tell Dad, alright?" she said, meeting her mother's gaze earnestly. She could tell her mother—Helen might even understand, to a degree—but if her dad found out before he was supposed to…

"Why would I—"

"Just promise, ok?" Violet persisted, desperate.

"All right, all right!" Helen conceded with a smile, and held up a hand. "I swear your father will not hear a word of this. Scout's honor."

"And don't overreact, ok?"

"Violet…" the older woman cautioned in that tone that mothers have that says "I'm getting exasperated with you so you'd best get on with it" without needing more than one word.

"Ok, so I really do have a boyfriend," she blurted, beginning to gesture helplessly. "I didn't mean to! It's just that he was there on campus all of a sudden and I had to make sure that he wouldn't hurt anyone and then I started to get to know him and he really isn't bad at all, at least not anymore, and then we started going out and I really like him but now Dad's going to kill him and you're never going to forgive me and—"

"Woah, Violet!" Helen interrupted, leaving Violet panting with the intensity of her fretfulness and of her speech, which had gradually risen in pitch and speed. "_Slow down_! What do you mean you _had to make sure he wouldn't hurt anyone_? And why is your father going to kill him? He didn't kill any of your other boyfriends!"

"Mom, don't you get it? He isn't _like_ any of my other boyfriends!" Violet exclaimed, throwing her arms wide to encompass the idea of her "other boyfriends."

"All right," the older woman stated skeptically, crossing her arms, "so what is he like?"

This was the hard part. She almost couldn't bring herself to say it; she certainly couldn't bring herself to meet her mother's eyes while she said it. She wrapped her arms around herself and fixed her gaze on her mother's right shoe.

"Buddy," she murmured, then a little bit more loudly to confirm her shame, "Syndrome."

"What?" Helen breathed, but Violet could hear the accusation in even that one word. "Violet, are you saying that he's _like_ Syndrome, or that he _is_ Syndrome?"

She couldn't keep it together anymore. She brought her head up to finally meet her mother's gaze, eyes full of tears. "I'm sorry Mom," she half-sobbed, which she supposed was answer enough.

To say that Helen was stunned was an understatement. It took a moment before she could even speak, but when she did—"Violet, what were you thinking? That man is a killer! He—"

"I know! I know!" Violet interrupted her mother's tirade. "But Mom, he's not like that anymore."

"And how do you know he's not just using you?" the older woman demanded, a combination of horrified and angry and worried that only mothers can accomplish.

"Mom, can you just _listen_ for a minute?" She suddenly felt the need to defend Buddy, in spite of the fact that he had more than earned all the distrust that her mother had for him. "I was suspicious too, at first, but I really think he cares about me." She didn't say that she cared for him too, but the unspoken words were loud enough that she was sure that her mom heard them.

Helen heaved a world-weary sigh and sank into an arm chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I think you'd better start from the beginning."

So Violet did. She told her mother the whole story, from the moment when they had first run into one another on her college campus by accident to the villain he had helped her defeat to their first date. She couldn't sit down while she did it, talking a mile a minute and pacing and gesturing hugely.

To her credit, Helen didn't interrupt, although by the end of the tale Violet was desperate for some sort of response. More than anything she wanted her mother to understand, even if she didn't approve.

Once Violet had finished, Helen remained silent for a few moments, clearly thinking things through.

"Well Vi, I don't know if I trust him," she said finally, slowly. She held up a hand to cut off Violet's protest before it even began. "But I agree that he deserves more of a second chance than your father is willing to give him. I just wish that you had told me sooner."

"I thought you'd think I was betraying you," she mumbled, letting her hair drift in front of her face in her old habit of insecurity.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little hurt," Helen told her, standing up and placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "And I still don't approve. But you're an adult now, and I trust you to make your own decisions." She was smiling as Violet tentatively glanced up. "I'll make a deal with you. I won't say a word to your father as long as you keep me in the loop about…Buddy." (Violet noticed that it took some effort for Helen to say Buddy rather than Syndrome, but she found that she deeply appreciated it.) "But all bets are off if he takes so much as one step in the wrong direction, do you hear me?"

Violet was so relieved to have that much that she would have agreed to nearly anything. From there the topic of conversation got considerably lighter, until by the time that the boys returned they were baking cookies and laughing.

The rest of the day was uneventful—for a birthday—but Violet noticed when she went to bed that someone had put the bouquet that Buddy had sent her in a vase.

* * *

Violet had thought that telling her family would just add more stress to her life, but in a way having her mother know what was going on made things so much simpler. Granted, there was always that motherly _look_ she received every time she said that she would be going out with friends, because at least half the time by "friends" she meant Buddy, and Helen knew it. The feeling of being under constant surveillance was not a pleasant one.

At the same time, though, she had someone on her side. The next time that Syndrome showed up on television, Helen was there to convince Mr. Incredible that now was not the time to go after him. And the next time, and the next time. On top of that, there was the simple, girly satisfaction of being able to talk to someone about her boyfriend and leave nothing out—even if, on occasion, her mother would cringe in spite of herself at the thought of big bad Syndrome with her little girl.

All the cover-ups had their price, though.

"That's it, Violet. I want to meet him."

Violet looked up from the magazine she had been reading to see her mother standing at the door to her room, arms crossed.

"What?" It was more of an expression of surprise than of confusion. There was only one person that Helen could have been talking about, and she had had a feeling that it would only be a matter of time before this happened. She just…hadn't thought that it would be so soon.

"This is the third time this month that I've had to talk your father out of chasing Syndrome," Helen explained, stepping into the room and closing the door. "He's starting to suspect that something's going on, that—I don't know, that I don't want to fight crime anymore or something. If I'm going to keep lying, I want to make sure that this boyfriend of yours is worth it."

Violet opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. She had told Buddy that she had told her mother, so he wouldn't be surprised, and once they had realized that this wouldn't just be some fling they had also realized that he would have to make nice with her family sometime. So she nodded instead, and asked her mother how soon she wanted it to be.

Which is how it happened that two days later Violet and Helen told the boys that they were going shopping in the city and instead drove to an out-of-the way park where Buddy was waiting for them.

Violet's stomach was doing flips of nervousness. She desperately wanted her mother to approve of him, but knowing that Violet was dating one of their former foes and seeing it firsthand were bound to be drastically different matters. Not to mention that Buddy _still_ had the habit of saying the most arrogant and/or irritating things, which normally gave her some level of amusement but in this situation could prove to be catastrophic.

But as she and Helen walked up to where he was doing his best to look harmless on a park bench, he gave her a wink that really should have only made her worry more but reassured her instead.

Helen stopped a good two yards away from the bench, and he slowly rose to his feet. Violet hesitated for a few moments as her mother looked him up and down, then took the few steps to stand next to her boyfriend, who took her hand and squeezed it without looking away from Helen.

"Syndrome," Helen finally said by way of greeting, voice stiff. Secretly, Violet was glad that Buddy had let her take the lead.

"Yeesh, no need to be so formal. The name's Buddy when I don't have the mask on," he replied, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parr. Or is it Helen?"

"Mrs. Parr," Elastigirl told him firmly, completely ignoring the outstretched hand. "And this isn't exactly the first time we've met."

Buddy winced, withdrawing his hand. "Ooh, yeah, not the greatest first impression there, I'll admit. Still, let bygones be bygones and all that jazz, am I right?"

"I'm not entirely convinced they _are_ bygones," Helen told him bluntly. She took no heed of Violet's mortified exclamation of "Mom!" and continued. "How do I know that you're not still out for revenge?"

"Touché." He saluted Helen as though he was a fencer that had just taken a hit; a glance at his face told Violet that he was smirking. "While I can't say I'd mind Mr. Incredible getting knocked down a few pegs, I happen to value my freedom. The only thing keeping the NSA from slapping on the cuffs is that I've been putting away villains for them. I stop being useful, they stop tolerating me." He glanced down at Violet, his smirk widening. "Not to mention that Violet might have something to say about it if I tried anything."

"You bet I would," Violet muttered, resisting the urge to elbow him in the gut. They had to put on a united front for her mother, after all.

"So you're telling me you're a changed man." It was a statement rather than a question, and a skeptical statement at that. Violet wished fervently that they didn't have to go through all of this—she had _told_ her mother what had happened—but she could understand Helen's need to see for herself.

The smirk was gone. "I'm not all sunshine and daisies now, if that's what you're asking. But I'm not out to hurt anyone, either. Particularly not your daughter."

"Yes, about my daughter—" Helen began, uncrossing her arms to plant her hands on her hips.

"I assure you my intentions are pure," Buddy interrupted, hand held up in a gesture meant to evoke scouts and the honor thereof.

Her mother fixed him with an intense stare. "Just as long as you realize that if you do _anything_ to hurt her, I will personally hunt you down and make sure you regret it for the rest of your life."

"Mom," Violet groaned, "You promised you wouldn't threaten him."

"Trust me babe, I've heard a lot worse," her boyfriend pointed out, which forced her to turn her less-than-happy gaze on him.

"You're _going_ to hear a lot worse when you tell Bob about this," was Helen's contribution. Violet and Buddy shared a look of dismay and cringed; neither of them was looking forward to that eventuality. "And you _are_ going to tell Bob if this goes on too much longer. If you don't, I will."

"How do you define 'too much longer'?" Violet inquired, fidgeting.

"You have until you go back to school." Helen's answer was definitive—apparently she had given this subject some thought.

"All I can say is you're lucky you're worth it," the former villain informed Violet. She couldn't help but smile at that, and her spirits lifted to see her mother's look of tentative approval. Maybe this whole meeting wasn't a disaster after all.

Buddy turned his attention back to Helen. "So I'm gonna guess that we have the green light, then?"

"For now," Violet's mother ground out.

"That's good enough for me," Buddy said with a grin, throwing an arm around Violet's shoulders in a celebratory manner.

Elastigirl sighed, somewhat resignedly. Violet had a feeling that the display of affection was what sealed the deal, and wondered if Buddy had planned it that way or if it was just good timing.

"I guess I'll be back to pick you up at three. You remembered your pepper spray, didn't you Vi?"

"Mom—"

"All right, all right, I'm going."

As they watched Helen walk back to the car, Buddy lifted an eyebrow at Violet.

"Pepper spray?"


	2. The Brothers

A/N: No, I have not forgotten about this story. I feel horribly guilty about how long it took me to finish this chapter, and I promise that I will finish this fic, no matter what (there's only one chapter left anyway). Just be warned, it may be a while before the next update. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this one!

Chapter 2

Jack-Jack and Dash

Violet had fully intended to go along with her mother's demand. Really, she had. She and Buddy had actually had long conversations about the best way to break the news to Bob. (Buddy wanted to be there to support her; she didn't want him to become a victim of her father's shock and/or anger)

There was also the question of exactly how serious their relationship was.

It was Buddy that brought it up, although to be fair it had been on Violet's mind too, for quite some time.

"Look, not that I'm not thrilled at the prospect of getting under Mr. Incredible's skin, but are you sure you want to incur his wrath over little old me?"

It struck Violet that when he wanted to be, her boyfriend could be very sweet—in a roundabout way, of course. She gave him a wry smile. "Trust me, I can handle my dad."

"Never doubted it, babe," he agreed. "The million-dollar question is, should you have to?"

She frowned, not entirely sure what he was trying to get at. "My mom—"

"Has nothing to do with it," the erstwhile villain interrupted. "Unless she can tell me whether we'll be together long enough to make it worth putting myself at the mercy of her darling husband."

Realization dawned. She couldn't quite disguise her surprise that _he_ was the one initiating the relationship talk—although it was long overdue, particularly given their history.

The subsequent discussion might have been awkward if it wasn't such an urgent topic. Surprisingly, Buddy took the conversation almost completely seriously, for which she was grateful.

Together, they came to the conclusion that they had no idea where their romance was going, but were going to give it every chance they could to get here. The pair of them had only been dating just over two months, after all; it was long enough to know that they wanted to get serious about each other, but not much more than that. Violet, for her part, had taken an enormous risk just agreeing to date Buddy, and was not about to second guess herself, or give up just because telling her family was tough.

Once that was settled, it seemed like the pressure to talk to her father doubled. In response, she procrastinated. No matter what she told Buddy, she really was afraid of Bob's reaction, and there was really no good way to tell him. "Hey Dad, remember that guy who massacred all those supers and nearly killed our whole family and tried to kidnap Jack-Jack? I'm dating him." Yeah, that would go over well.

Maybe if she hadn't put it off things would have gone differently.

When Bob stormed into the house, about a month before Violet had to return to school, she barely looked up from her magazine. Bob was in the habit of storming when he was in a bad temper, and it was usually better to let her mother deal with it on such occasions.

"I almost had him!" Violet's head snapped up at his exclamation, and her stomach sank. She had a feeling she knew exactly who he was talking about, and his disheveled, slightly singed appearance only reinforced that suspicion.

"Bob, what happened to you?" Helen, just returned from putting her youngest down for a nap, sounded horror-stricken.

"I almost had him, Helen." He made as if to punch the wall in frustration, but under his wife's disapproving gaze pulled back just in time and had to settle for pacing and clenching his fists. "That murdering, insufferable, full-of-himself poser of a villain. I had him cornered! I nearly had him beat! And then he pulled a flamethrower out of nowhere. I can't believe I let him get away!"

Violet didn't even bother to mask her horror; she knew Bob would interpret it solely as distress that Buddy had gotten away mixed with concern for her father.

"A flamethrower?" she managed to choke out.

"A flamethrower!" Mr. Incredible agreed. "Lucky for me he couldn't hit the broad side of a barn if he tried, or I'd have a lot worse than singed eyebrows."

Violet's breath left her in a whoosh. She was vaguely aware of her parents continuing the conversation without her, but her attention was directed inward. Even cornered, Buddy had tried not to hurt her father. If that wasn't proof that he'd changed, nothing was. A wave of affection for her boyfriend washed over her, followed shortly by a fresh wave of panic. Was he alright? Who would be, if Mr. Incredible thought he'd had them nearly beaten?

"What if he really has changed?" she demanded, interrupting her father mid-word. He gave her a disbelieving look in return.

"Do you think he would've attacked me if he had?" Bob wanted to know. He shook his head. "There are just some people that don't change, Violet. He's one of them."

"Bob…" Helen began, but trailed off. Violet supposed that she wasn't entirely sure what she could say without betraying her daughter's confidence.

"And I suppose you know him _soo_ well," she drawled sarcastically, getting to her feet. "Did you ever think maybe the reason you can't see that he's changed is because you don't want to?"

She didn't wait for either of her parents to respond. She had keys to her mother's car; she put them to use now. She had a feeling that Helen would be able to figure out where she had gone, and understand.

Buddy's temporary "lair" was really a dingy apartment at the far edge of town that he was renting for the summer. Violet hadn't been there often, but she had still committed the route to memory. She made the trip in half the time it normally took, practically out of the car before she had turned it off, pausing only to grab the first aid kit that Helen had taken to keeping in the trunk.

She took the stairs to the third floor in twos, her legs burning by the time she knocked on her boyfriend's door.

After the first minute of waiting, she began to worry that he hadn't even been able to make it back to the apartment after his fight with her father. She was mentally reviewing all the places that she would look for him when the door swung open.

Buddy was a mess. His nose was bloody and possibly broken, and he had a black eye. He had stripped down to his boxers, presumably in an attempt to treat the cut across his ribs that was steadily oozing blood, and it left it plain exactly how bruised the rest of his torso was.

"Let me tell you, Vi, your dad packs one hell of a punch," he joked weakly before she could express any of the emotions that filled her at the sight of his battered form.

It took a lot of effort to just lead him into his apartment and start patching him up, instead of breaking into tears or clinging to him in spite of his injuries or pretty much anything.

"He followed me from a rescue," he explained to her as she bandaged the abrasion on his ribs. She pretended not to notice that he was trying not to flinch. "Confronted me, accused me of plotting something nefarious, yadda yadda. You know the drill."

"And you just let him beat you up?" she asked incredulously.

"In my defense, the man makes it very hard to fight back," he told her with a wince as she put pressure on a particularly tender area. In response to her raised eyebrows, he added, "Hey, if you want me to quit pulling my punches next time he comes after me, I'm all for it."

Violet sighed. "I guess it's too much to hope that there won't _be_ a next time."

"Woah woah woah." Buddy pulled back from her ministrations a little bit. "Since when are you so fatalistic? You can stop that right now and focus on kissing me better."

Of course, Violet had no choice but to oblige him.

X X X

Violet didn't cry until later that night. It was too much to expect her not to, when two of the men she cared about most were on a collision course in which one of them was bound to get seriously hurt. She was just grateful that Buddy's injuries had only been relatively minor this time around.

"Vi?"

Violet lifted her head from her pillow to find her youngest brother, barely more than a toddler, in the doorway.

"You should be in bed," she told him, sitting up all the way and doing her best not to look like she had been sobbing her eyes out.

"Why are you sad?" he asked, in that guileless way that children so often have.

She sighed and patted the bed next to her. Jack-Jack complied, scrambling up to sit cross-legged on the coverlet and staring up at her with wide blue eyes.

"I have this friend," she explained, choosing her words carefully. "He used to be a bad guy, but he decided to turn good instead. The problem is, Daddy doesn't see that he's a good guy now and keeps trying to fight him."

Jack-Jack tilted his head in confusion. "Why don't you tell Daddy he's good?"

If only it was as simple as her baby brother made it sound. "Because Daddy won't listen. He'll get mad that I made friends with him."

The child nodded sagely, then tilted his head to one side. "Is your friend the bad man that tried to kidnap me?"

Violet blinked in surprise. Jack-Jack couldn't have been old enough to remember the incident, but she supposed that it only made sense that he would put Violet's nameless friend together with the bad man that was now all over tv—and infuriating their father.

"Yes," she said, "But you can't tell Daddy. It's our secret, okay?"

"Promise," Jack-Jack agreed, solemnly holding out his pinky. Violet tried not to smile as she linked hers with his in the age-old gesture of a child's sincerity.

"Now bedtime," she told him, nudging his ribs gently. At his anguished look, she had to work hard to look stern. "Go on. Scoot."

As he sullenly trudged off to his own room, Violet couldn't help but wish that telling the remainder of her family would be that easy.

X X X

It seemed like, in light of recent events, they would have to put off telling Bob about their relationship until he had a chance to cool down. Under the circumstances, telling him now could very well be a grave mistake. Even Helen agreed that it might be better to put some distance between Bob and his unfortunate encounter with the flamethrower.

So the deadline was extended.

Reluctantly, Buddy decided to spend the rest of the summer on campus to avoid any more similar confrontations. Neither he nor Violet was particularly happy with this arrangement, but it was a relief not to have to worry about any more battles—in the near future, anyway.

The rest of the summer was more or less uneventful, although Bob continually gloated over how he had run Syndrome out of town. Violet spent time with her family and her friends, and kept in contact with her boyfriend with help from modern technology.

Much as she loved spending time at home, she was very happy to get back to school—however strange that sounded.

Dating Buddy without the sneaking around was such a relief. He wasn't her teacher, so there was no need to worry about being found out by any of the faculty. And while her friends were somewhat surprised at her choice to date a man so much older than herself, they gave their tentative approval.

Things settled into some semblance of normalcy for a while, Violet focusing on school and hero-work and her social life, and Buddy continuing with his university-funded research project.

Life was more or less uneventful until one Saturday in early October. She could have thought of a number of things she'd rather be doing than working on calculus homework, but her family was going to be visiting and she knew she wouldn't have time to do it after their arrival. Besides that, she had a genius of a boyfriend to help her out and make things more interesting.

Violet couldn't help glancing the clock as they got closer to finishing her assignment.

"If you're that eager to get rid of me, I can go," Buddy finally commented with a wry smile.

She ducked her head a little in embarrassment to have been caught in the act. "Sorry," she told him, resisting the urge to look at the time again. "I just don't think it'd be good for you to be here when my family gets here."

Buddy lifted his eyebrows. "In an hour and a half? Golly, we're sure cutting it close."

She smacked his arm lightly in response to the sarcasm. "Let's just get this assignment done with, okay?"

Which was, of course, when Dash burst through the door.

"Hey Vi, the car got stuck in traffic and I was bored so I decided to go on ahead and—ohmygosh is that Syndrome?! Don't worry, I'll go get help—"

Violet cut off his mile-a-minute chatter with a hand clamped firmly over his mouth. Buddy took the opportunity to plant himself in front of the door. It occurred to Violet to be glad that her roommate had gone home for the weekend.

"Hold it, pipsqueak," she told him, not letting the terror she felt at being caught show in her voice. Little brothers were like animals that way: you couldn't let them know you were afraid. "You're not going to get anyone, got it?"

His eyes had gone big in either surprise or fear—she couldn't tell which—and when she feed his mouth, he spoke slowly. "Violet, what's going on?"

Violet glanced briefly at Buddy, searching for the right words. "Well—" she drew out the word as long as she could.

"Well, right now I'm helping her with her calculus homework," her boyfriend interrupted, smirking cockily. He'd crossed his arms and was now leaning against the door, precluding any escape attempts from her little brother. "Or is that not nefarious enough for you?"

Violet shot him a glare as Dash took a few cautious steps away from her. "Oh my gosh. You're working with him. He's corrupted you and now you're helping a bad guy and you're going to betray us and Mom is gonna be soo mad and—"

She interrupted him for the second time, although she had to shout to be heard over the panicked babble that he was spouting. "Mom already knows!"

There was a stunned silence as he took in this information. "You mean Mom's been corrupted too? It's a conspiracy! Hey, somebody get me out of here! Help!"

"Dash!" she yelled, now completely fed up with her brother's antics—although she had no doubt that he really thought he was in danger. "No one's been corrupted!"

"Unless you count me," Buddy put in, then aimed a finger at Violet. "I blame you entirely for that, by the way. Man, would I ever be in the perfect position if I was still out for that kind of revenge."

"Not helping, Buddy," she growled, then turned to the problem of convincing Dash that she was not, in fact, a bad guy. "Look Dash, Buddy's on our side now. He's not evil anymore."

The young boy narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. "How do I know you're telling the truth? Maybe you're just trying to trick me into thinking you're good."

Violet rolled her eyes. "Weren't you paying any attention to Dad this summer? And how mad he was that Syndrome was getting a reputation for being good?"

"Well…"

"Yeesh, what is this, the Spanish Inquisition?" her boyfriend muttered, then continued in a louder voice. "Look, kid, if I was still out to get you, you'd know it by now. You really think I'd take the risk of you leaking my position if I had something to hide?"

"Maybe you're just saying that to get me to believe you," Dash protested, but from her long experience with him Violet could tell it was more for the sake of argument than anything else. A moment later, his shoulders sagged and he looked up at his big sister. "And you said Mom knows about you guys being friends?"

"In a manner of speaking," she agreed, dancing around the delicate matter of the fact that she was dating the former villain.

"What do you mean, 'in a manner of speaking'?" he demanded, suspicion back in full force.

"She really does know!" Violet amended quickly, but it was obvious that it wasn't going to be enough. "The thing is, Buddy and I are kind of…"

"For Pete's sake, just spit it out," Buddy interjected exasperatedly when she'd taken too long to conclude her statement. "We're dating!"

"You're _what_?!" Dash's jaw had dropped in shock. Violet could count on her fingers the number of times her speedster of a brother had been shocked speechless, and she wished that this wasn't one of them. She made a mental note to give Buddy a stern talking to about his role in today's conversation.

"Listen, you can't tell Dad, okay?" she pressed, taking advantage of the brief silence. "It's just that Buddy really has changed, and Dad refuses to understand. He'll flip out if he finds out."

"But—but how—" he took a few moments to compose himself. "What are you_ thinking_?"

Violet sighed. "He's not a bad guy anymore, Dash. I was suspicious too, at first, but he's not. You don't have to like him…just give him a chance, and _don't tell Dad_."

Dash heaved a heavy sigh. "Fine, okay, I won't tell Dad." He shifted his gaze to the man in question, and in a blink he was facing Buddy down. It was a comical sight, particularly since Dash only came up to his waist.

"I'm warning you right now—" and darned if he didn't come off as threatening despite the size difference "—if you stick so much as one toe out of line, I'm gonna personally kick your butt."

Buddy gave an ironic salute. "I read you loud and clear."

"Thanks, Dash," Violet told him sincerely, then lifted her eyebrows. "Now can I finish my homework?"

Her boyfriend surrendered the door, and as Dash sped out she could have sworn she heard a grumbled comment about her only wanting him to leave so they could do "mushy stuff."

Violet practically collapsed into her desk chair. "Well that went well."

"I'll say one thing," Buddy drawled, taking his place once more in the chair next to hers. "Your family sure has an affinity for threats."


	3. The Father

A/N: See? I haven't forgotten about you. This here is the last chapter of my story, and I hope you enjoy it! I've certainly enjoyed writing it, and all your support has only made it better. Thank you one and all!

Phase 3: Bob

Violet took Buddy's hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. For a moment they just stood there in silence, looking at the deceptively nondescript office building before them.

"So let's hope they buy it, huh?" He was hiding it well, but Buddy was probably the most uncertain she had ever seen him.

"'Buy it?'" Vi asked with her eyebrows raised. "That sounds an awful lot like we're lying to them. And you _have_ changed, haven't you?"

Her boyfriend rolled his eyes and shrugged exaggeratedly. "Just because I've hung up my evil laugh doesn't mean I'm about to get on my knees and beg to work for the NSA."

Violet put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "You told me you were fine with it."

"Listen, sweetcheeks," Buddy said, draping an arm over her shoulders. "If it's the only way to make sure Mr. Rippling Muscles doesn't come after me in my sleep—which, by the way, it probably is—I'm all for keeping my limbs attached."

"But?" Violet prompted, and had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. Her arms were crossed now, but she made no move to pull away from him.

"But," Buddy repeated, "it wasn't exactly high on my list of things to do. And let's face it babe, I don't' think I'm gonna be exactly welcome there after what I did at Nomanisan Island." He paused. "Not to mention I'm not even a Super. I mean _hello_, that was the whole reason for the bitter rampage." A glance at Violet had him scrambling to continue. "Not that I still, you know, think all Supers need to be wiped from existence or anything. Just the self-important jerks."

Now it was Violet's turn to roll her eyes. "You might want to stop before you dig your hole any deeper. And work on sounding a little more sincere while you're at it. You're scheduled to meet with an NSA representative in twenty minutes."

The redhead grimaced, but didn't complain. When it came down to it, they both knew exactly how important this was. It was November, which meant that Thanksgiving was coming up—and Helen had decided their new deadline for informing Bob about their relationship was the end of Thanksgiving break.

The pair of them had done a lot of talking about the situation, and come up with one solution that would preclude Buddy's dismemberment. The only way that they could see that Bob would not outright attack him upon sight was by getting endorsement from the NSA. The National Supers Agency had been turning a blind eye to Syndrome's escapades over the summer, because he hadn't done anything blatantly villainous and it wasn't entirely unheard of for a villain to reform. In fact, they had a program in place for repentant bad guys; the numbers of any supers, be they good or evil, was not high enough that they could afford to refuse the help, if it was offered.

But the main point was that Mr. Incredible would not try to destroy a fellow NSA operative, no matter how much he hated him.

Which was why they were walking into the governmental office building in Metroville—though it was a bit of a trip from the university where they both resided for the majority of the year, it was still the closest location. Violet had to resist the urge to turn invisible at all the looks she was receiving, a strangely nostalgic sensation since she hadn't felt it this intensely since high school. People knew Buddy's face, in spite of the lack of mask, since Mr. Incredible had known his civilian identity. Even more people knew Violet—these were people she had worked with, who had supported her as she grew into a full-fledged Super. They would be wondering why she was walking in here with Syndrome while he was so clearly _not _under custody.

She took deep breaths and fought back the instinct. There was nothing to be ashamed of; if anything, she should be proud that she had helped turn Syndrome away from evil. Somehow, she doubted her father would see it like that if he got word of her being here with him.

"I thought I was supposed to be the nervous one," Buddy whispered to her as they waited their turn to check in with a bored-looking secretary. Violet smiled in spite of herself, relaxing slightly.

Their wait in the waiting room was tense. Even if they hadn't both had nerves about the possible results of the meeting, there were the other people also waiting, pretending not to stare at the pair of them. A few seemed oblivious—probably new to this whole NSA thing—but being at the center of all those supposedly subtle glances and glares was not pleasant.

Buddy's growing frown was evidence that he noticed it, too.

"Oh, by all means people, keep staring. Maybe if you wait long enough I'll do a trick. In fact, I feel one coming on right now. Want me to play _dead_?"

Violet groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Buddy…" She should have known he wouldn't be able to resist saying something. Her boyfriend practically lived for the spotlight, and to be honest all that attention _had_ been getting a bit irksome.

"What?" he murmured, putting on an innocent expression. "There's nothing in the rules that says I have to be _polite_."

"Mr. Pine? Miss Parr?" The secretary called. "Mr. Garwin is ready to see you now."

Buddy was on his feet in an instant. Violet accepted the hand he offered to help her up, and didn't let go once she was standing.

The erstwhile villain squeezed her hand and gave her a cheeky wink. "Showtime."

* * *

The stiff-looking man behind the desk stared at them levelly. Violet very pointedly did not fidget. This was the moment of truth; they had explained Buddy's change of heart to Mr. Garwin, and answered all of his questions—including an awkward one regarding the exact nature of their relationship. Now the only thing left to do was await the verdict.

Garwin shuffled the papers before him and cleared his throat. "Well, Mr. Pine, you've certainly put me in a delicate position. There are a number of our operatives that are demanding justice for all the lives you are accountable for—and on that note, your history does not speak well for you trustworthiness."

Violet glanced up at Buddy's face, which was uncharacteristically serious. They didn't talk about Nomanisan much, but enough for her to know that he _did_ feel remorse for what he had done.

"Still," Garwin continued, "your recent actions speak otherwise. Not to mention that you have Invisigirl herself vouching for you." Now he smiled at both of them somewhere between benevolently and patronizingly. "Congratulations, Mr. Pine. Your application has been accepted. Of course, your probation period will last longer than is customary, and your actions will be closely monitored…"

Violet tuned out the details, relief flooding through her and making her oblivious to everything but the grin spreading across Buddy's face. They would get this information in writing soon enough, anyway.

The instant that the office door closed behind them, Violet launched herself at Buddy. Her arms she threw around his neck, pulling him down to a level where she could reach to plant a sound kiss on his lips. She heard—and felt—him laugh muffledly just before his hands went around her waist and lifted her to a level where he didn't have to stoop so drastically.

Violet was breathless and giddy when she was placed back on the ground, both from the kiss and from their—from _Buddy's_ success. She was far too elated to be fazed by their audience in the waiting room.

"What?" she asked, planting her hands on her hips. "Haven't you seen a girl kiss her boyfriend before?"

* * *

"Your mother tells me you'll be bringing a friend with you over Thanksgiving."

Violet began to nod, then realized that her father wouldn't be able to see her over the telephone. "Well, yes and no."

"Yes and no?" Bob repeated skeptically. "Which is it?"

Vi twisted a strand of hair around in her fingers. "Um." She made a desperate face at her roommate Kitty, who was listening to her end of the conversation with interest. "Yes, but Dad—you can't freak out—he's kind of my boyfriend."

"It must be pretty serious if you're bringing him home with you." She could tell that he was trying to keep his tone light—but he was failing. "Why haven't I heard about this boyfriend before?"

"Because I knew you'd go all overprotective on me!" It wasn't even a lie, either.

"Hey, who's going overprotective?" Bob asked defensively.

"You were about to," Violet muttered.

"I just want my little girl to be happy." He paused. "But since we're on the subject, exactly _how_ serious is this?"

"Da-ad—"

"Does he know about your…extracurriculars?"

Violet rolled her eyes at the lame reference to her alternative identity. "Yes dad, he knows. Can we please talk about this _after_ you've met him? It's complicated."

His sigh sounded heavy, even over the phone. "Alright, but this discussion is going to happen sooner or later, whether you like it or not."

"Got it." With a relieved smile, she changed the subject. "So how's work been?"

Several long minutes later, she hung up.

Kitty grinned at her over the screen of her laptop. "Well, I couldn't hear him yelling at you from over here. That's gotta be a good sign, right?"

"He hasn't met Buddy yet. My hopes are not high."

"What's the big deal, anyway? So you're dating an older guy. _Not_ the end of the world."

Violet raised her eyebrows skeptically. "And how did your parents react when you told them about Peter?"

"So not the point!" The other girl paused. "I don't get it, though. Buddy like never comes to parties and stuff with us."

Vi smothered a grin. "Buddy isn't exactly a people person. Besides, he _does_ hang out with us sometimes."

"Just as long as he doesn't think he's too good for us cause he's, like, 28."

Now the young super snickered. "My boyfriend thinks he's too good for the entire world. Don't take it too personally."

"Except that he totally doesn't think that about you."

"Huh?"

The brunette gave a shrug. "He acts all superior to everyone else, sure, but whenever you're together he treats you like an equal. Good thing, too, otherwise we'd so be having a serious talk about your taste in men."

"I'm _so_ glad to have your approval," she retorted. Nevertheless, she was still thinking about it when their discussion turned to the "omg, _sooo_ romantic" portrait that Peter had painted of Kitty. In fact, the idea kept her smiling for the rest of the day.

* * *

Violet was struggling not to hyperventilate as they drew closer to the Parr household. They had put off the inevitable disaster by taking the train to Metroville and having Helen pick them up, but now there were mere minutes between them and the wrath of Bob.

"Deep breaths, babe," Buddy advised from the back seat. When her only reaction was to turn around to glare at him, he added, "Besides, I thought I was the one who was supposed to be nervous here."

"He's going to kill me," Violet groaned. "He's going to kill me and then he'll go after you and—"

"Relax, honey," was Helen's input. She continued driving as though she _wasn't_ bringing her only daughter closer to certain doom with every second. It would seem as though she was used to her daughter freaking out. "Of course he's not going to be happy, but no one is going to get killed. And the longer you put this off, the worse it's going to be."

Buddy leaned forward to pat her on the shoulder. "I've got everything under control. You have nothing to worry about."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" A moment after she said it, it struck Violet how strange it was that her mother and her boyfriend were teaming up against her. Buddy had been chattering throughout the entire car ride in an attempt to fill the awkward silence that would have ensued—apparently his talent for monolog had _not_ been retired along with his villainy—but this was really the first time that she had seen the pair of them really cooperating with one another.

"What, so you don't trust me anymore?" Violet didn't have to look in the rearview mirror to know that he was wearing an expression of mock-innocence. "I am very hurt by that statement."

Helen snorted. "Yeah, well get used to it. There's not gonna be a lot of trusting going on around here for the foreseeable future."

And then they were pulling into the driveway. Faintly, Violet heard Buddy saying "Well _duh_, but Violet here is supposed to actually be on my side. You know, my bastion of strength in the face of the sinister forces of the Incredibles."

And if she wasn't busy having a panic attack in the front seat, it would have given her immense hope for her future with Buddy that Helen actually looked amused as she said "Sinister? I think you're forgetting exactly who the evil mastermind was here."

But she _was_ having a panic attack, so none of that really registered. What registered was her mother putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry too much, sweetheart. This is important to you, and sooner or later he's going to realize that. When he does, it's going to mean more to him than any grudge. Now I'm going to go inside and tell your father we're here, alright? And _yes_, I'll make sure he promises not to kill Buddy."

Violet smiled wanly as her mother got out of the car, then followed suit. As the two of them had been talking, Buddy had gone to start unloading the trunk. Now she joined him, looking up at him through a screen of hair.

"Don't even think about it," he told her, not even turning around.

Violet's mouth, which had just been opened so she could talk, stayed open as she gaped.

Buddy only turned to look at her after firmly shutting the trunk. "You were about to tell me how I don't have to go through with this, or something ridiculous like that." He leaned forward and angled a finger at her. "Let's make one thing clear right now: I don't like losing. So I'm definitely not going to give up on the sarcastic, clever, beautiful girl I love without one hell of a fight. End of story."

To which Violet could only respond by throwing her arms around him in an embrace that he happily returned.

It only made sense that it was at this moment that Bob decided to step out the door.

"Violet?" He called from the doorway, his voice audibly tense. "Why don't you introduce me to your friend."

In the circle of Buddy's arms, Violet winced. Her boyfriend gave her an extra squeeze, then released her, giving her an extra push to make sure that she would face her father.

"Dad," she said, pulse rushing, voice quavering, "meet Buddy."

What happened next seemed to pass in a blur, and yet excruciatingly slowly at the same time. Buddy turned to face Bob, wearing the most infuriatingly smug smirk that she had ever seen on him.

"Long time no see, Mr. Parr," he said, the flippant tone in his voice a strange contrast to the respectful form of address he used.

Mr. Incredible was very still for a moment. Then his face grew very, very red. "_You_!" he bellowed, and in a moment he was thundering across the lawn, intent on nothing other than his target.

Violet stepped in front of Buddy at the same moment her mother shouted "Bob! Stop!" from the doorway. She herself was desperately trying to talk her father out of it, though she was not entirely sure what she was saying. None of this seemed to be enough to deter him though; his course was unswerving. When it became clear that he was not going to stop, Violet did the only thing she could think of, right there in their driveway for the world to see.

She threw her hands up, and with them a huge, shimmering violet bubble.

Bob, unable to hold back his momentum or uncomprehending of what his daughter had done, ran into her protective wall full force. The impact rippled through her, in the same strange metaphysical way that she could feel her force field.

Beside her, Buddy murmured "Yikes. That's gotta hurt," just loud enough for her ears. She had to agree, the sight of her father being knocked to the ground as a result of her actions a strange and uncomfortable one.

Mr. Incredible got to his feet slowly and deliberately, leveling a glare through the translucent purple screen between them. "Violet," he growled, "put down the force field."

Violet took a deep breath, planted her feet, and squared her shoulders. "No, Dad. Not until you promise to hear hi—_us_ out."

"That man is a psychopathic murderer," he reminded her through gritted teeth. "He tried to destroy our family. He needs to be brought to justice."

"He's protected by the NSA, Dad," the younger super insisted. She stuck one hand out to the side and wiggled her fingers, never breaking eye contact with her father. Obediently, Buddy provided the item she needed, which she proceeded to hold up for Bob to see. "Look, we have the papers and everything. Buddy Pine is officially a reformed villain. Okay, so I know you're not happy with me, but he really isn't bad anymore and he deserves a second chance, even the NSA agrees. And come on, isn't it kind of your fault that he turned into a villain anyway? Now both of you have a chance to redeem yourselves and I know you don't like him and you don't have to but _please_ Dad, all I'm asking is that you give him a chance! He's done some horrible stuff, sure, but he's different now and _I love him_."

With the end of her monolog—delivered at an ever increasing speed, which in the end would have made Dash proud—she stood panting for breath, but she didn't once look away from her father's eyes. There were a few bad moments when his gaze flicked over to Buddy and his face hardened—but then he looked back at his daughter.

"Just get inside the house before someone sees you." With that, he turned around very deliberately and began making his way to the door.

Violet and Buddy exchanged a look. Hesitantly, Violet dropped the shield and picked up a suitcase. "Well," she said slowly, "I guess we'd better follow him."

* * *

The tension in the living room was palpable. Violet and Buddy sat together on the couch in a show of solidarity, while Bob paced and Helen stood ready to take action should her husband—or the supervillain in their living room, for that matter—get out of control. The two boys were watching curiously from around the corner of the kitchen, although Violet rather suspected that their parents hadn't yet noticed this fact.

"—that you didn't tell me!" Bob was ranting. "You're putting our entire family at risk!" He had started to repeat himself, which was kind of making the tirade lose some of its effect. Buddy actually had the nerve to look amused.

Helen finally stepped in. "Bob, she told me about it months ago. I would have told you if I thought there was any real threat."

Violet elbowed Buddy to cut off his offended comment before he could make it.

"So you were in on this?" the Parr patriarch boomed, his face turning red. "You _knew_ that our daughter was dating that—that menace?"

Violet didn't know what was worse—this unrestrained fury, or the silent anger from earlier that afternoon. When they had first arrived, her father had spent a good amount of time glaring heatedly before storming out of the house for an hour or so. It was upon his return that this cross between interrogation and beration had started.

"Come on, _Mr. Incredible_," Buddy said from where he lounged beside her, glaring challengingly up at the beefy man. Violet's hands clenched nervously; this was not the time to be taunting Bob, but she wasn't entirely sure that Buddy could resist the opportunity. "In case you hadn't noticed, Violet's all grown up and fully capable of making her own decisions. Or don't you trust your little girl's judgment?"

Vi let out her breath as Bob sputtered. "I don't trust you not to have some trick up your sleeve!" he finally managed.

"Let's not pin this all on me. You just don't like it that she's old enough to be a consenting adult now."

Violet sat up very straight. "Buddy!" she shrieked, although it could hardly be heard over Mr. Incredible's bellow of rage. She could also see her mother's mouth moving, but her words were indecipherable.

"I want that man out of my house!" Mr. Incredible roared, bearing down on Buddy, who was intelligent enough not to say anything more incensing.

"Hey, you don't have to tell me twice," he said, holding up placating hands and backing towards the door. "You need some time to cool down. Perfectly understandable. Why don't I just step out for, oh, fifty years or so?"

Violet, red-faced and mortified, stood. "If he goes, I go too."

"You're not going anywhere," Bob told her. "You belong with your family, not that criminal."

She took a deep breath and squared her jaw. "At least he doesn't make me choose between the two."

Walking out that door to join Buddy was far harder than fighting supervillains or braving house-fires or taking chemistry tests had ever been. It had to be done, though. Her father would forgive her, or so she told herself, but if she didn't stand her ground now there was no way he would ever accept how much this man had come to mean to her.

* * *

Violet snuggled closer to her boyfriend on the park bench, his warm mass at her side and his arm around her shoulders proof against the chill November air. She felt more than saw him look down at her, but he didn't say anything, so she didn't either.

They had done a lot of talking in the three days since they left the Parr household, rehashing old thoughts and confessing new fears, so this quiet time was welcome. Violet had done some visiting with old friends in town for the holiday, and Helen even managed to sneak her brothers out from under Bob's disapproving gaze to spend a day with the pair. (Buddy being with her family, or at least most of it, was still awkward, but at least they were giving him a chance.)

But for now they just sat together gazing across the autumn-lit park. It was hard to say what her boyfriend was thinking about, particularly since he was usually in motion, even when he was planning out one of his new inventions. For her part, she was contemplating the flame of the few leaves left on the trees, trying to see if she could find a shade that matched Buddy's vivid hair. This activity was far more productive than brooding on her situation would have been.

The shrilling of her cell phone startled both of them out of their peaceful state. Violet jerked out of Buddy's embrace, fumbling in her pocket with gloved hands. Finally she managed to dig the recalcitrant piece of technology out, and pressed the talk button.

She listened for a few minutes, and when she hung up she was smiling. In response to Buddy's inquisitive gaze, she stood and held her hands out in front of her, beckoning for his. Though she couldn't really do much in helping him up, the gesture got the message across anyway.

"We going somewhere?" he asked, leaving one of his hands in Violet's.

She nodded. "Mom says that Dad's willing to listen again."

A smile found its way across Buddy's lips, and he tugged on their joined hands. "Well then, by all means, let's give Mr. Incredible another opportunity to scalp me, shall we?"

Rolling her eyes, Violet followed his lead.

They walked back to the Parr house. It wasn't so far from the park they had been sitting in to their destination, and while the weather was crisp it still wasn't too cold to be outdoors. Together they had come to the conclusion that it would be presuming too much to get their things from the hotel where they had been staying—in separate rooms, despite what Buddy might have implied—since there was no guarantee that they would actually be able to get Bob's blessing. Still, there was a spring in Violet's step.

It was Bob that answered the door for them. Silently he stepped aside to let them in, his gaze lingering on Buddy untrustingly. Violet very pointedly did not let go of her boyfriend's hand as they took their seats on the couch, their position reminiscent of the first confrontation they'd had with her father.

Bob paced across the living room for a few long moments before he turned to speak to Buddy. "So. I made a few calls to the NSA. It would seem as though you really _have_ reformed, or at least made them believe you have."

Buddy opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off. "Let's get one thing straight, _Pine_, I don't trust you, and I definitely don't like you. But for some reason my daughter cares about you, so against my better judgment, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Under a few conditions."

"Ok, lay it on me." Buddy paused, and added, "Aside from the customary promise of dismemberment if I hurt Violet in any way, shape, or form, which I can assure you I have no intent of doing."

"Trust me, Pine, if you hurt Violet, you're going to _wish_ for dismemberment," Mr. Incredible informed him, ignoring his daughter's embarrassed whine of "Da-ad." He wore a curiously self-satisfied look now.

"See, I did a little research when I was on the phone with the NSA. And as a former villain, you're required to be under close supervision of a trusted, senior super until your probation is up. You'll never guess who volunteered."

Horrified as she was, Violet was rather surprised by Buddy's sudden and somewhat hysterical laughter.

"I wouldn't be laughing if I were you, Pine," Bob growled. "I don't plan on making this probation easy on you in the _slightest_."

Buddy shook his head, still laughing uncontrollably. "Sorry, Mr.P," he managed, wiping away tears of mirth. "It's just the irony here is killing me. You do realize that if you'd just agreed to this twenty years ago we could've avoided this whole mess, right?"

* * *

Thanksgiving that year was a tense and somewhat awkward affair. One minute Buddy would be making attempts at humor, the next he'd be directing jibes at Mr. Incredible. In spite of a few…interesting… incidents, though, (the fight over the drumstick was a bit more to epic proportions than it ever had been before, for one thing, and Bob didn't much like how Jak-Jak had quite ironically taken to Buddy) things went as well as Violet could have hoped.

She did, however, take the time to corner her mother before Thanksgiving Day. Though Bob was brilliant enough when it came to facing supervillains, in more day-to-day matters he could be rather clueless. There was just something that didn't ring true about him having come up with the solution to the problem of Violet's boyfriend.

Helen admitted to it readily enough.

"It was the only way to get him to calm down about the idea of you being with Buddy," she explained. "I know it's going to make things difficult for awhile, but let's face it, your father's not going to even think about accepting your relationship unless he can personally witness that Buddy isn't up to anything."

Since her mother was right, Violet didn't bring up the fact that Mr. Incredible was going to relish the opportunity to torture Syndrome in every way he could, up to and including keeping him apart from her. Hard to corrupt her if he was here and she was at college, after all.

More painful was the discussion she had with Bob when he decided that they needed to have a little chat about adult relationships.

"Listen Violet, I know you're an adult and that you and _that man_ are involved, but if he's taking advantage of you—"

"Dad," she tried interrupting, having to work to resist the urge to just turn invisible, "we're not like that."

He gave her a penetrating look. "All right, fine." His uncomfortable shifting should have given her a clue to the next question. "But you are using protection, aren't you?"

"Dad!" she yelped, eyes wide in horror. "We're not—I mean we haven't—" She took a moment to collect her thoughts. "We're not together like that!"

"Oh. Good."

Violet left home at the end of the week with considerably less tension than she had arrived there. Though her father was nowhere near accepting of Buddy, he was no longer trying attacking him, which she counted as a win. He had even (grudgingly) consented to Buddy returning to his work, under the condition that he attempt no "hero" work without Bob's supervision. Still, Violet had a feeling that she would be getting a lot more visits from her father than ever before.

So she hugged all of her family members and said her goodbyes, and got on the train to go back to college. Buddy was shaking his head as she took her seat next to him.

"What?" she demanded.

"It's pathetic, that's what. I, Syndrome, have officially been tamed. No more wreaking havoc or inspiring terror."

Violet only smirked. "I have a feeling you couldn't stop wreaking havoc if you tried."

Buddy made a show of contemplating this, tilting his head to the side and tapping his chin with a finger. "You make a good point." Then he looked down at her, and it was his turn to smirk. "Besides, there are perks."

"Oh really? What kind of perks?"

The kiss he gave her was probably a little indecent for a public place, but Violet couldn't find the will to mind. After all, when you were dating a former villain, sometimes you had to be just a little naughty.


End file.
